


First Time for Everything

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkward First Times, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack and Angst, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, First Time, Fluff and Crack, Hospitalization, Hospitals, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Explicit Sexual Content, Prequel Coming Soon, you get it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 20:11:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15347766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: Despite the obvious severity of the situation, Dean can’t contain his laugh. Cas follows shortly after, breaking the House façade, and Dean’s fortunate the feeling of relief is the only thing washing over him right now. The last thing he needs is to blow not more smoke, but water up his ass.





	First Time for Everything

**Author's Note:**

> ................... what can I say? My ideas choose me; I don't choose them.

It’s been a while since Dean’s played baseball, but he figures it’s kind of like that.

He doesn’t do it in a well-lit room. He can’t. It’s too much pressure on his already rampant beating heart. And Cas will come in if he sees the light on in the bedroom. So blindly, he reaches for the object on his nightstand and dives back under the covers. It’s a little smaller than he anticipated when he unboxed it, so he’s not even sure if it’s the right kind. It’s amazing just how many different types and variations there are. He just picked the one that looked the least suspicious on his bank statement.

He’s already done the legwork—or, rather, the _finger_ work, which was painful enough, making the finale a little less daunting.

“Okay,” Dean sighs, positioning it at the appropriate mark before flipping the switch, “let’s do this.”

 

 

_30 minutes later…_

“So what did you tell the doctors?”

“That you pepper-sprayed your anus, what else would I tell them?”

Dean tilts his head, which will no doubt result in a neck sprain, given these hospital pillows, eyeing him hesitantly. “You didn’t.”

“Dean, you know I hate sarcasm.”

“Oh my God.” Dean throws his neck back, and yeapp, that’s definitely a knot now. It’s a surprise he doesn’t land in here more often, to be honest. His job is critical for both the safety of the city and himself. He’s like Batman, except doing everything legally and with an old-school Batcall known as a telephone.

After a moment that can only be described as awkward, Cas sits at the end of the bed and talks to Dean as if he’s his nurse: “They said you’ll be okay. They’ve obviously never seen a case so… _unique_ … involving pepper spray, but a rectal scan showed no signs of permanent damage. The douche seemed to help a lot. They said to keep doing that over the next couple days until the irritation goes away. This time on your own, of course.”

Despite the obvious severity of the situation, Dean can’t contain his laugh. Cas follows shortly after, breaking the _House_ façade, and Dean’s fortunate the feeling of relief is the _only_ thing washing over him right now. The last thing he needs is to blow not more smoke, but water up his ass.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” Dean comments between chuckles.

Cas shakes his head as he settles for a smile. “Seconded. But then again, I signed up for this, so…”

Another pause ensues, but this time it’s due to a different kind of awkward: Dean would honestly rather accidentally masturbate with a pepper spray bottle again than be the subject of such a vulnerable discussion:

“You know I would’ve offered to bottom. I don’t mind switching off,” Cas says. “I didn’t even know you were thinking about consummating our love. Do you feel like I’m pressuring you? I know I moved in a little soon…”

“No, no, I… I wanna live with you; that’s why I asked. And I wanna have sex with you. And I want you to top. I’m just…” Dean sighs, already beyond frustrated with himself. Words aren’t his strong suit unless he’s quoting someone’s Miranda rights. “I don’t know. I’m scared.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Cas asks, scooting closer.

“Because it…” Dean scratches his neck as he tapers off. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Dean, you talk about sex all the time.”

“But this is… this is different.”

“Because you’re dating a man.”

“Because I’m dating _you,”_ Dean says. _“_ And that too, obviously… it’s everything. I’ve never had sex with another dude… it’d be a lot less intimidating if it was with someone random. But this is you. You’re… _you.”_

Cas shrugs. “I _am_ me, yes.”

“What happened to hating sarcasm?”

“I made an exception,” Cas says, reaching for Dean’s hand. He squeezes it after they’re intertwined and offers Dean a reassuring smile—the one that doesn’t show any teeth, but still softens his cheekbones to closer resemble a sugar cookie as it’s bubbling mid-bake. “Just like you are for me right now. Like you said: It’s me. You could never disappoint me, Dean. I’ll love anything you choose to do or not to do with me. Whenever you’re ready.”

Dean doesn’t have to see himself to know his internal doubt is coming to the surface. It’s about as apparent as his hospital gown, and unfortunately not as light on his chest.

Cas puts his left hand over Dean’s so it’s completely covered. “I’ve only been with one woman,” he says. Dean shoots his head up. “Does that ever worry you? My lack of sexual experience with women?”

“Well… no. I guess not,” Dean replies, blinking. Then, with more confidence: “No. Because you’re with me. That doesn’t matter.”

Cas’s grin quirks up a little more, revealing some teeth. “Exactly.”

Dean feels the doubt evaporate just like that; replaced with the same feeling he had first laying eyes on Cas at the local Biggerson’s drive-thru ten months ago.

Cas was twenty pounds heavier to accommodate his breakfast and dinner Turducken’s. (And honestly, if Roman Enterprises didn’t exist at the time before its bankruptcy, Dean wouldn’t have been burning calories directing traffic. Seriously, who only has 3,000 parking spaces for 5,000 employees?) He was also adorable with his black suspenders, decorated in pins, over a red, slightly unbuttoned polo—which is how, through more visits on his lunch break that would no doubt warrant a grease-induced heart attack, Dean observed the pansexual pin on his left strap, just below his name. Because otherwise, he still would’ve been wondering if Cas sneaking eight extra lids into his bag was out of consideration for his fellow law enforcement or something more.

The only way to describe it is a childlike euphoria. Dean feels lighter, while simultaneously feeling a tickle of excitement every time Cas so much as breathes in his presence.

So of course, it’s only fair he shares that feeling with Cas, tugging him by their intertwined hands and kissing him. Cas smiles and wraps his mouth around Dean’s like he’s pressing a bow onto a newly wrapped gift before pulling back far enough to admire his work: Dean’s rosy, plumper-than-usual lips. “You know,” he says, grin still straddling both ends of his lips, “the bright side is you did a fantastic job testing the waters: There’s definitely no way it’ll hurt worse your first time.”

“Oh fuck you!” Dean laughs, pushing Cas away before pulling him into another sweet kiss one could argue he’s _burning_ to receive.

 

 


End file.
